


Fool In A Flower Crown

by infinitevariety (disapparater)



Series: Summer Omens [16]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Asexual Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley's Plants (Good Omens), Flower Crowns, Fluff and Humor, Gardens & Gardening, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M, South Downs Cottage (Good Omens), Summer Omens (Good Omens), soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-05
Updated: 2020-11-05
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:08:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27404812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/disapparater/pseuds/infinitevariety
Summary: Aziraphale makes Crowley a flower crown. Crowley get his own back.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Summer Omens [16]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1836280
Comments: 8
Kudos: 47





	Fool In A Flower Crown

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Summer Omens prompt GARDEN and originally posted [here](https://infinitevariety.tumblr.com/post/633970018783297536/garden).

The afternoon sun warms Aziraphale’s exposed forearms as he sits cross-legged on the grass. He feels light and carefree, as he has every day since they moved to the South Downs. Crowley is laying beside him, stretched out in the sun and snoozing behind his sunglasses.

Running his hands through the grass, Aziraphale notices all the daisies blooming small and bright amongst the green. Without conscious thought, Aziraphale begins picking the tiny flowers and making a chain of them.

A short time later, Crowley stirs. He grumbles lightly and stretches his limbs even further.

“Are you picking my daisies?” asks Crowley as he sits up beside Aziraphale.

“I’m sorry, did you grow them specially?”

“Yes. I planted each one by hand.”

“Well, you’ll have to plant some more then, won’t you? That’ll keep you occupied.”

“Why do you want me occupied?”

“Gardening keeps you out of trouble, my dear.”

“I don’t get _in_ trouble, angel.”

Aziraphale rolls his eyes. “Fine, it keeps you from _causing_ trouble.”

Crowley grins, and Aziraphale can’t help his own smile as he finishes his work. He stands, feeling some much need relief in his legs after sitting with them crossed for so long.

“What have you done with my daisies, then?” asks Crowley, looking up at Aziraphale’s hands from his seat on the grass.

“I’ve made you a daisy chain crown, my dear.”

With gentle hands and only a slight flourish, Aziraphale places the ring of flowers on top of Crowley’s head. He also bats Crowley’s hands away when he splutters and tries to knock the thing off.

“Leave it alone, it looks _beautiful_.”

“I look ridiculous!”

“You can’t even see it, Crowley, so you’ll have to take my word for it. The light flowers look bright and wonderful against your red hair. Give me your phone, I want to take a picture.”

“Absolutely not.” Crowley crosses his arms, not passing Aziraphale his phone, but not removing the flower crown, either.

Aziraphale harrumphs, but concedes the compromise.

“I’ll let you look pretty and sulk in peace. I’m going to go read my book in the shade.”

Picking up the book he’d left in the grass, Aziraphale strolls to the old oak tree at the end of the garden. He drops down happily into the wooden bench beneath it. As he opens his book and begins to read, he notes the dappled shade from the tree’s leaves across the pages and smiles.

A couple of chapters later Aziraphale registers Crowley getting up from his spot on the grass and moving over to the Japanese maple trees. They are a favourite of Crowley’s, and he often spends time whispering threats to them while secretly admiring their gorgeous red leaves.

A few more chapters later and Aziraphale is now so engrossed in his book he jumps when Crowley drops onto the bench beside him.

“Made you your own crown,” says Crowley without preamble.

“Oh!” Aziraphale closes his book, eager to receive his own daisy chain.

What Crowley presents him with is _not_ daisies.

From the look Aziraphale gets of the crown before it is placed lightly on his head, it is made of small, thin branches and red leaves.

Aziraphale looks questioningly at Crowley.

“The red leaves look bold and bright against your white hair. It’s _beautiful_ , angel. You’ll have to take my word for it.”

With a sigh, Aziraphale rolls his eyes.

“In fact, let me get my phone out, I need a photo.”

Crowley slides his arm around Aziraphale’s shoulders and leans in. He points his phone, screen turned towards the pair of them, and Aziraphale can see them both in the image. Crowley is still wearing his daisy chain crown, and Aziraphale can’t deny the red of his own _does_ look bold against his pale hair.

In the photo Crowley takes Aziraphale is not looking at the camera. His face is turned slightly, eyes soft, as he gazes at Crowley.

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi on [tumblr](https://infinitevariety.tumblr.com/)!


End file.
